


À Deux

by GaeilgeRua, Meiri



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Friendship, Not Epilogue Compliant, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 18:18:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5258822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaeilgeRua/pseuds/GaeilgeRua, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meiri/pseuds/Meiri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years can change so much.</p><p>Written for the Xmas Exchange '13 on Granger Enchanted's Malfoy Manor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Passage of Two Years

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silver_Chessboards](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Silver_Chessboards).



> Mega thanks to our beta for stepping in on short notice, and to the recipient for the charming prompt. We were rather taken with it. :) This story was an experiment in many ways; thank you for challenging us and enabling us to try new things. Also, we shamelessly copied the style for the epistolary section of our story from Jane Austen’s novella _Lady Susan._
> 
> Disclaimer: As always, this work is meant to be a transformative piece of fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended, nor is there any profit being made from it.

_Letter One_

From Hermione to Ron and Harry

  
_30 May 1998_

_Canberra, Australia_

Dear Harry and Ron--I’ve arrived and am settled in Canberra. Wizarding Australia is interesting, but I won’t be spending much time there, I’m sure. Most of my time will be spent in the Muggle world here, searching for Wendell and Monica Wilkins. I sometimes wish I’d given them a more distinctive surname. Oh well, what’s done is done. I’ll write again when I find them, or have to move on to another district. How is everyone doing?

Give everyone my love,

Hermione

  
  


_Letter Two_

From Hermione to Harry and Ron

 

_16 July 1998_

_Adelaide, S. Australia_

Dear Harry and Ron--Since my last letter, I’ve conducted searches in the states of New South Wales, Victoria, and even Tasmania and New Zealand just to be on the safe side. I was going to bypass Tasmania and New Zealand, but they’re so small that I thought I’d do as well to search both as not, though I think that they may well be colder than my parents would like during the Antipodean winter.

Needless to say, as I’m writing this from South Australia, I have not found my parents yet. I hope to soon, though.  Give my love to everyone, and be sure to write back with any news!

Hermione

  
  


_Letter Three_

From Hermione to Harry and Ron

 

_17 September 1998_

_Perth, W. Australia_

Dear Harry and Ron--I’ve been all over South Australia and Western Australia (the latter is absolutely HUGE!), with no luck. Tomorrow I’m heading to Darwin, from whence I will conduct my search of the Northern Territory. It won’t take long, since it’s so much smaller than Western Australia. After that, if necessary, I’ll be going into Queensland, and probably base my search out of Brisbane.

The less land I have left to cover, the more my mind wanders to how the memory restoration spell will go. It is more intricate than casting Obliviate, and it’s not something you can actually  _test_ , you know… I suppose I will just have to practice the wand movements and the incantation separately until it’s time to use it. I’d best go finish packing for tomorrow.

Give my love to everyone,

Hermione

  
  


_Letter Four_

From Hermione to Harry and Ron

 

_5 December 1998_

_Brisbane, Queensland_

Dear Harry and Ron -- Finding my parents was rather simple once I reached Brisbane. Even though they are not magical, they still felt a pull towards the magical community here. They had a flat only a few blocks from Grange Library, which acts as the gateway between the magical and Muggle worlds.

Returning their memories has become quite another thing entirely. I tried the  _Memoria Redeatia_  spell that you found for me in the Black family grimoire in your library, Harry, but though I’ve tried repeatedly, it just does not work! Last night, out of desperation, I nearly cast _Finite Incantatum_ , but the section of the grimoire dealing with memory, cautions most strongly against that.

I’ll have to do some research now, but am not sure where to begin. The Wizarding section of Grange Library does not go back very far. I will go to the local Wizarding hospital tomorrow and see if there are any Healers who specialise in mind or memory.

Harry and Ron, in your last letters, you asked if there was anything you could do to help me. Would you be able to see if there are any other spells concerning memory in the books at 12 Grimmauld Place? And perhaps, ask some of our friends if they know of anyone who specialises in this area of magic?

Thank you for everything. Give my love to everyone,

Hermione

  
  


_Letter Five_

From Harry to Hermione

 

_11 December 1998_

_12 Grimmauld Place, London_

Dear Hermione--Of course we’ll help you in any way we can. I have already been at the house on Grimmauld, because I wanted to clean the place up some. Kreacher found a way to take the portrait of Sirius’ mum down, and I told him he could put her in a cupboard in his new room. The place is loads cheerier already! And it’s much easier to go about research without her shrieking with the Weasleys, or other Order members coming and going.

I haven’t found anything in the library as yet, but Ron’s been asking some of our friends and members of the DA. A few of us are meeting at the Leaky tonight, so we’ll be able to ask around there, too.

Let us know if you need anything else! Oh, yes. Teddy’s new trick is turning his hands whatever colour his food is.

Take care,

Harry

P.S. Ron says hi.

P.P.S. How are you set . . . financially speaking, I mean? Let me know if you need any help - I’m happy to, well, you know.

P.P.P. S. Christmas is going to be weird without you. How do they manage the holidays there?

  
  


_Letter Six_

From Neville to Hermione

 

_December 1998_

_Leaky Cauldron, London_

Dear Hermione--I hope you’re doing well. Harry and Ron explained that you were in need of a mind Healer the other night. When I was visiting Gran at the hospital yesterday (she wrenched her knee in May, and never got it looked at until recently, she’ll be out in a couple of days), I mentioned it to her, and she told me all about Healer Knightwell. I guess he was one of the Healers who joined the team caring for my parents when I was little. He gave up his practice after nothing he tried worked for Mum and Da, but Gran said that she remembered he was a cousin or some sort of relation to the Malfoys.

I saw you and Malfoy fighting back to back in the Great Hall . . . I don’t know what made him change sides mid-battle, but his actions and the loss of his parents that day seem to have redeemed him somewhat in the eyes of the new Ministry, and some of the older members of the Order. I’m still undecided as to whether we can trust him, but since he’s the only living Malfoy left, perhaps you could contact him.

Let me know if I can be of service. Stay in touch,

Neville

  
  


P.S. Happy Yule.

  
  


_Letter Seven_

From Hermione to Draco

 

_20 December 1998_

_Brisbane, Queensland, Australia_

Mr. Draco Malfoy--I understand that you have a relation who was a mind Healer at one time. I find myself in need of one for my parents. Last year, I modified their memories with  _Obliviate_ , and since recently locating them, I’ve been unable to reverse the spell.

I know that with the exception of that day, we’ve not been particularly friendly, but I would greatly appreciate if you could put me in contact with Healer Knightwell.

Kind regards,

Hermione Granger

  
  


_Letter Eight_

From Draco to Hermione

 

_27 December 1998_

_Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England_

Miss H. Granger--I was surprised to receive your letter, and so close to Yule, at that. I am indeed related to Edmund Knightwell, although my family has not heard from him, that I know of, since he visited briefly before the Quidditch World Cup six years ago. At the time, he told us he was going to be living in Pedras Grandes, Brazil for a while. I’ve not seen him since, and I’ve yet to go through my parents’ correspondence.

On a more personal note, thank you for what you said to Smith. I am still not clear on what happened, but I’ve been told he tried to do me an ill turn, and if I recall things correctly, I suspect that I interrupted you calling him on it.

If there is anything else I can do to assist you, please let me know.

Draco Malfoy

  
  


_Letter Nine_

_From Hermione to Harry and Ron_

 

_5 January 1999_

_Pedras Grandes, San Catarina, Brazil_

Dear Harry and Ron--I’m now in Brazil. I decided to get a job tutoring students in Brisbane before I came here. I have some money to live on, but I didn’t want to deplete all of it, and besides, having work experience in other parts of the world will look good on my CV.

Anyway, Malfoy’s relative, Healer Knightwell (who treated Neville’s parents until 1985), used to live here. It seems that he moved away three years ago, though. His colleagues in the small infirmary in the magical community here said that he was going to take up residence in a small magical settlement in Papua New Guinea to further his research.

I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get to Papua New Guinea to follow this lead up, but in the meantime, I’m working in the infirmary, expanding my knowledge of remedies. A few of the Healers here also have some acquaintance with mind and memory healing, so I’ll learn as much as I can before I leave for PNG.

Pass along my love to everyone,

Hermione

  
  


_Letter Ten_

From Neville to Hermione

 

_1 February 1999_

_Longbottom Hall, York, England_

Dear Hermione--I was looking through some clippings Gran keeps in a file, and found a  _Daily Prophet_  article dated the 20th of September 1996 regarding a Herbology and Mental Healing conference. It was hosted in London, and the keynote speaker was Edmund Knightwell. I wonder if the Royal Herbology Society would have a record of the keynote speaker biography. I was going to go there soon anyway, to inquire about a Herbology Master to apprentice under once I’ve sat my NEWTs. I’ll write as soon as I have news.

Cheers,

Neville

  
  


_Letter Eleven_

_From Hermione to Neville_

 

_9 February 1999_

_Pedras Grandes, San Catarina, Brazil_

Dear Neville--Thank you for your letter. Your Gran must be hopeful that Healer Knightwell’s research will be of some benefit yet. Please do let me know if you find anything further. I will be leaving for Papua New Guinea in the next week or two, to see if I can learn his whereabouts from a small magical community there.

Also, good for you, pursuing an apprenticeship in Herbology. Your Gran must be so proud of you! I have been doing my NEWTs prep by correspondence with Professor McGonagall, but I won’t be able to take the exams until I return to England.

All the best,

Hermione

  
  


_Letter Twelve_

From Hermione to Draco

 

_10 February 1999_

_Mount Hagan, Papua New Guinea_

Mr. Draco Malfoy--I thought that you might be interested to know that Healer Knightwell no longer resides in Brazil. One of his colleagues told me that he moved to Papua New Guinea in 1995. Unfortunately, he is no longer living here either.

His colleagues in both communities speak very highly of him (although the ones here in PNG are rather reluctant to speak with me directly; I use an intermediary when asking them questions), and I am intrigued by his research.

Shall I keep you updated in my search?

Hermione Granger

P.S. Regarding the more personal aspect of your letter, while I knew you’d come upon me and Smith after the Battle, I was unsure of what you had heard, even then. I was simply taking him to task for cowardly conduct, if you must know.

  
  


_Interlude_

Draco folded the letter, and its predecessor.  In a display of uncharacteristic sentimentality, he placed them in the compartment at the back of his desk drawer, along with the condolence card she'd sent after he'd buried his parents.

That done, he turned back to the most recent bundle of letters his father had kept. Among them, there was a letter from Cousin Edmund, about which he’d been meaning to write to Granger, though he was unsure how to go about addressing the postscript from her last missive. His memory of the Final Battle was hazy in places.

There were a few parts of the battle he remembered with sickening vividness. One such scene was watching the Dark Lord hold the Elder Wand loosely in his hand, and with barely a glance in their direction, he’d fired the Killing Curse--first at his mother, followed in the next instant by his father. Draco remembered that he couldn’t pull his gaze away from the Dark Lord’s rapturous expression, even as his parents’ bodies fell to the ground. He remembered even, the shrillness of the Dark Lord’s laughter when he stalked closer to the maniacal wizard.

_“You’ve come to meet your death, too, young Draco?”_

_He snarled in response and squared his shoulders. Where there had been rage boiling in his veins, he now felt a chill calm take over. Lifting his chin, he looked Evil straight in its face. “It will be your death,” he spat, “rather than mine.”_

_With reflexes he’d never known he had, he whirled and cast a shield charm as a hex flew at him from the side._

_“Young Malfoy is mine!” Voldemort turned to fire a Crucio toward the offender to Draco’s left._

_Using his opponent’s distraction, Draco cast Sectumsempra at him. While it was not as effective as the one Potter had hit him with last year, it did the job nicely. The Dark Lord was still up and casting, but the blood was flowing from his wound nicely, and he had slowed down. Draco took aim again, ready to utter the Killing Curse when his world went black._

_The next thing he knew, Hermione Granger was standing over him, face set in a mask of determined fury, hexing and immobilising all comers. He glanced up from his prone position, taking in her duelling stance with her scuffed trainers brushing his shoulder and hip, her torn denims and faded pink jumper, her eyes blazing like an angel of vengeance. The barest glimmer of light reflecting into his eyes made him wince and drew his attention to a masked Death Eater creeping up behind her as she fought someone outside of his field of vision. The Death Eater’s wand was trained on Granger._

_It was a surreal moment. Her life was in his hands, without her knowing it. He watched the Death Eater start tracing an intricate pattern in the air with his or her wand, and put a stop to it with a well-aimed Stunner. Granger hardly spared him a glance, aside from offering him her hand to help him to his feet. Once he was up, she turned so they were back to back. And then it was back to the fray, until the Dark Lord crumpled in a heap, dead by his own Killing_ _Curse, which_ _was reflected back at him by a simple spell that no one else in the history of magic had ever been able to use as protection against such ill intent -_ Expelliarmus.

The other scene he recalled vividly was the altercation to which Hermione referred to in her postscript.

_Hours later, Draco wandered the halls aimlessly, having completed the task of identifying his parents’ bodies in the wreckage of what had been the Great Hall. Their lifeless forms, faces forever fixed in expressions of concern and determination - expressions rendered meaningless by their vacant eyes._

_In his meandering, he wasn’t sure what it was that he sought, or perhaps he knew but found himself unable to articulate it. In any case, he let his feet carry him whither they would. He’d been warned that, in the morning, he’d be questioned by Aurors. With the deaths of both of his parents, along with his mad aunt, and the arrests of his uncles, Draco was alone. Most of his housemates had hidden or fled, and the few who had remained had distanced themselves._

_No, there would be no comfort for him within these walls this night. Without family, or a welcoming friend, he was alone. Alone, and standing on the precipice of a future he’d never envisioned._

_He supposed that he should draw a small measure of hope from the fact that he was still free to roam the empty corridors. The arrests following the death of the Dark Lord had been swift, and in some cases, brutal. Shock had rippled through survivors and warriors alike on both sides, and settled over the remains of the old castle like a well-worn cloak._

_There were small groups, scattered throughout the main floor - grieving families, groups of friends simply relishing being alive. Belonging nowhere, and turning his back on the cold comfort provided by the vacant dungeon lair of his House, he ventured upwards. He’d lost track of where he was in the endless corridors and staircases, but he gradually became aware that his footfalls were not the only sounds in this particular area._

_Voices. Indistinct, muted. Even while listening carefully, Draco could not tell where the speakers might be. Curious, he finally cast_ Hominem Revello _. With the spell's guidance, he found an alcove, hidden by a large tapestry, a few paces ahead and to the right._

 _"I knew you were many things, Smith," Draco heard a prissy, feminine voice say, "but I never realised that_ coward _was one of them."_

_"You better watch your mouth,_ _Granger_ _. You don't have your pets here to look out for you."_

_Draco was surprised to hear the threat in Zacharias Smith's voice. He never knew the bloody Hufflepuff had it in him, even though the Smith family were some of the staunchest Purebloods in the country. While growing up, he had often avoided the sandy haired git at the various functions his parents used to make him attend. He was accustomed to dealing with arrogance, but Smith took it to a whole new level when coupled with his overbearing self-righteousness._

_"Oh, Smith, do you honestly think that a spoiled schoolboy can intimidate me after so many years of fighting grown Death Eaters?" She chuckled._

_The low tone of her laughter crept along Draco's spine, and suddenly an offhand comment he'd overheard Weasley say to the brunette made sense: Granger could be one scary witch, and her brilliance in their lessons did nothing to diminish the power of that realisation. If anything, knowing her aptitude for magic made her even more frightening - a force with which he never wished to tangle._

_"Don't threaten me, witch."_

_"I am merely stating facts," she replied. "You are the one determined to deliver threats. Fact one, you stunned someone engaged in a duel with old Snake Face. Fact two, when the target of your stunner was unconscious, you proceeded to cast slicing and stinging hexes at him."_

_Draco pulled out a corner of the tapestry and peeked around. A jar of bluebell flames sat on the ground. Granger, still in her battle regalia was poking Smith in the chest with her finger with every syllable she uttered. Her hair had long since escaped the messy bun he'd seen on her in the Great Hall._

_Smith was standing, legs akimbo with his arms folded across his chest. His jaw was clenched and his chin lifted to a haughty angle. He sneered, opening his mouth to retaliate, but Hermione cut him off before he could say anything._

_“You may have absolved yourself for fleeing during the evacuation of the school - ahead of the first years, no less - by returning to help in the battle, but you are still a bloody coward.” She bent down to pick up the jar of bluebell flames. “If I ever hear of you doing something so dishonourable, so_ Slytherin _again, you will regret the day you ever crossed me, Smith.”_

_Draco scrambled back from the tapestry, as Hermione turned to leave the Hufflepuff to stew in his anger. Not wanting to get caught eavesdropping, he took a few silent but hurried steps down the hall. Once he was far enough_ _away, he_ _leaned against the wall facing the alcove, arranging his limbs in a careless attitude. As she exited the alcove, he waited keeping his facial expression relaxed, despite all he'd just overheard. A fleeting smile passed over her features as she came up to him. Meeting the gaze of her warm, brown eyes, he was surprised to see acceptance tinged by caution. Moments_ _later, she_ _nodded and made her way down the hall, silence descending over the hallway as the scuff of her trainers on the stone floor faded, the blue light from her jar trailing after her. Draco turned in the opposite direction, quickly making his way from the scene he just witnessed._

With a twitch of his shoulders, Draco shook himself out of his dark reverie. If he was honest with himself, he was still in a state of shock nine months later. Shock at his parents’ deaths, at his nerve in attempting to duel the only wizard he’d ever seen his father bend a knee to, his ongoing, but grateful freedom, and even shock that he was still alive, while so many others had lost their lives.

Easter seemed so long ago. But even then, while witnessing his mad aunt's torture of Granger in the winter parlour, he’d known that Voldemort couldn’t be allowed to succeed. A world in which such madness and abhorrent cruelty reigned was not a world in which he wanted to live.

The gooseflesh on his arms and back of his neck began to relax, and he set about rereading the letter from Edmund Knightwell. He wanted its contents to be fresh in his mind before he set quill to parchment in reply to Granger’s most recent letter.

  
  


_Letter Thirteen_

From Draco to Hermione

 

_18 February 1999_

_Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England_

Miss Hermione Granger--Please do send further updates. I am envious of your travelling - not the reason for it, of course, but that you are seeing more of the world. I won’t be able to drop things here for a while. I never realized that there was so much to do when settling a person’s affairs, or those of two people… Well, never mind about that.

I was going through some of my father’s correspondence, and there was a letter postmarked in April of 1996. He sent with it a few pressed cherry blossoms and a paperweight. I think he was either on holiday or consulting with a colleague, for he says, “I would have liked to stay in Nagoya longer, but have so much to do before I present some of my research at the next colloquium. Cousin, you should consider a vacation in Japan during the spring.”

I, too, shall inform you if I find anything further among my parents’ papers.

Draco Malfoy

P.S. It occurs to me that I’ve never asked… How did you come by your referral to Cousin Edmund?

  
  


_Letter Fourteen_

From Hermione to Draco

 

_27 February 1999_

_Mount Hagan, PNG_

Mr. Draco Malfoy--I feel so awkward and formal writing that every time… May I call you Draco?

I never realized that I forgot to mention who referred me to Healer Knightwell. How rude of me! It was Neville Longbottom, actually. I’d mentioned to the boys - well, Harry and Ron, I mean - that I was seeking a mind Healer for my parents, and asked them to make inquiries on my behalf. Soon after, I had a letter from Neville. Healer Knightwell treated his parents when we were all children.

In any case, even though he seems to have mostly given up practicing medicine, his research has taken him all around the world. Someday, I hope you can see some of the places he’s been.

Cheers,

Hermione

  
  


_Letter Fifteen_

From Draco to Hermione

 

_5 March 1999_

_Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire_

Hermione--Certainly, you may call me Draco, if I may be so bold as to presume to call you Hermione.

I think I remember at one time Mother saying that Cousin Edmund retired from practicing medicine because he felt guilty for not being able to cure the Longbottoms. My aunt and uncle were… vicious.

I think, though he has never confided in me, that he pursues the paths he does in his research hoping that one day he will be able to help them again.

What is Papua New Guinea like?

Draco

  
  


_Letter Sixteen_

From Hermione to Draco

 

_14 March 1999_

_Mount Hagan, PNG_

Dear Draco--Papua New Guinea is very different from home. I don't know where to start.

Language here is fascinating. There are so many local clan languages, plus introduced languages that they all have been blended into a Pidgin language, which helps facilitate trade. However, since English is the language used in their schools, I haven't needed to use any translation charms.

Most families have three houses; one for men, one for women and children, and one for their pigs. If they cannot afford a third house, the pigs live with the women. Pigs are highly valuable here in the highlands, and are treated almost like currency - bride prices are even paid in pigs.

Their currency shares its names with precious seashells from the PNG lowlands, or coastal areas.

The culture is quite different from ours. I am curious to see how you would react to it.

I'd better go for now.

Hermione

  
  


_Letter Seventeen_

From Draco to Hermione

 

_21 March 1999_

_Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire_

Hermione--Papua New Guinea sounds fascinating, and so different. How are you spending your time there?

As I may have mentioned already, I have not seen Cousin Edmund since 1994, and I was too young then for the two of us to correspond as acquaintances. As such, I wasn’t expecting to hear from him at all, but I was shocked to receive a letter from him just a day before I received your most recent missive. In his letter, he wrote that word had finally reached him in Venice of my parents’ deaths and he asked me to contact him if I needed him. He also mentioned that he had recently been in Morocco finishing up a talk with a colleague that he is planning to present at a Herbology and the Healing Arts conference in Venice. He didn’t say when the conference will be, but I spoke with Neville Longbottom and he told me that he is planning to attend the conference and said it will be held in early June.

Since Cousin Edmund is no longer in practice, by your leave, I will write a letter of introduction for you. I presume you will want to contact him as soon as possible.

Regards,

Draco

  
  


_Letter Eighteen_

From Draco to Edmund

 

_21 March 1999_

_Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire_

Dear Edmund--You invited me to write you should I need any assistance.  I am writing, not for myself, but for a young woman - an old schoolmate of mine to whom I may owe a life debt. I will lay out the facts of her dilemma for your consideration; I would appreciate your assistance, but if you are unable to provide it, then perhaps you might be able to give me some advice and recommendations in providing my own assistance to her?

During the war, she used a powerful Obliviate on her Muggle parents to erase their memories of her from their consciousness. She was heavily involved in the fighting and was on a sort of "Most Wanted" list, hunted relentlessly by Death Eaters. She did what she thought was best, even changing their names to protect them.

As you probably know, the war ended last May. After the funerals and memorials wrapped up, she travelled to Australia to find them. Upon locating her parents, she tried to reverse spell, but was unable. She is a strongly talented witch, and infuriatingly capable, so that failure was a surprise.

After that, she wrote to friends seeking a referral to a Healer with a concentration in memory and mind healing. The Longbottoms' son remembered his gran's praise of you and your connection to the Malfoy family, which led her to correspond with me. Since then she has travelled to every place we were able to find you had lived for an extended period of time. She was hoping to present her case to you in person, I believe.

Please let me know if you are interested in hearing more, and possibly helping.

Regards,

Draco

  
  


_Letter Nineteen_

From Edmund to Hermione

 

_28 March 1999_

_Venice, Italy_

Ms. Granger--Please forgive me for writing to you without proper introduction. My cousin’s son, Draco, tells me that you are in need of a Healer specialising in Mind and Memory. He has also apprised me of the situation that is at the root of such necessity.

I would like to assist you, if it is within my power, however, I have commitments and obligations leading up to the Herbology and the Healing Arts Conference happening here in Venice the first week of June. I am on the organizing committee, and unable to leave for extended periods of time, however, if you were able to come to Venice, I would be more readily available to assist you in your research and to provide insight into developing a course of action for returning your parents’ memories.

Respectfully,

Edmund Knightwell

  
  


_Letter Twenty_

From Hermione to Draco

 

_15 April 1999_

_Venice, Italy_

Dear Draco--Thank you for allowing me the use of your family’s flat in Venice. It is so much easier to work with Healer Knightwell on my parents’ case from here than Mount Hagad! I’m not sure we’ll make much progress until after the conference is over, but he has already suggested a few books on the topic that were unavailable to me while I was overseas, and he has even lent me a few rather rare tomes.

I must say, I will be glad once this is all over, however it turns out. I know you envied my travels, but I rather envy you, Neville, Harry, and Ron. You’ve all finished your NEWTs and started training or apprenticeships. I still have my NEWTs to sit before I can make any headway on enrolling in a training course or sorting an apprenticeship.

I have to say, I’m very impressed that you convinced the goblins at Gringotts to back your dual apprenticeship in Charms and Arithmancy. And you said your final project is to be creating a new security system for the bank? If you have any questions about the vulnerabilities of Gringotts, I can tell you a few things I noticed when Harry, Ron and I infiltrated their old security system.

I’d best go start on some of the reading your cousin suggested. Good luck with your studies.

Cheers,

Hermione

  
  


_Letter Twenty-One_

From Ron to Draco

 

_19 May 1999_

_Ottery St. Catchpole, England_

Malfoy--I bet you’re surprised to receive this letter. I bet you cast every protection and jinx-detecting spell you know on it before you opened it. I would have done the same.

I wanted to thank you for everything that you’ve done for Hermione. Between chats with Neville and letters from our girl, well, Harry and I both really appreciate it. She’s always been there for us, helping us, and we were at a loss as to how to help her.

This is a bit out of the blue, but Neville has suggested we include you in our weekly get-togethers. A few of us meet for Friday night drinks and a bit of nosh at either the Hog’s Head, Three Broomsticks, or the Leaky, depending on Hannah Abbott’s work schedule and such. We’ll be at the Three Broomsticks this Friday around seven, if you’d like to join us.

Ta,

Ron Weasley

  
  


_Letter Twenty-Two_

From Draco to Hermione

 

_20 May 1999_

_Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire_

Dear Hermione--I received the strangest letter yesterday when I was sitting down to reply to your last one. It was from your friend Weasley, inviting me to join a group of our old classmates at the Three Broomsticks. I’m still not sure what to make of it - is it an ambush, do you think?

Kidding! I’m kidding. But it’s still a bit odd, don’t you think?

I’m glad to hear that you’re settling in at the old flat and getting along well with Cousin Edmund. I hope that the two of you will be successful - sooner rather than later. I’m sure that you’ve given a lot of thought to what you would like to do when you have restored your parents’ memories. What would you like to do? Would you return to England?

As for your offer, I would definitely be interested. The Gringotts goblins admit to no vulnerabilities. I won’t be able to start my project at Gringotts for another couple of years--Masters Turcell and Pritchard have suggested that I complete at least one full year each of my Charms and Arithmancy masteries before beginning. Well, they actually suggested doing two years of each, but I negotiated them down. If you do decide to come back, perhaps you can tell me about the infamous bank heist in person?

Venice is a beautiful city. I know you have a great deal of work to do, but I hope you also will take some time to enjoy yourself while you are there.

Take care,

Draco

  
  


_Letter Twenty-Three_

From Hermione to Draco

  
_15 June 1999_

_Brisbane, Queensland, Australia_

Dear Draco--I am sorry it has taken so long to reply to your letter. Somehow I ended up acting as a sort of assistant for your cousin as the dates for the conference drew nearer and nearer. In an effort to balance those duties with my NEWTs preparations, and studying up on mind and memory spells, I let my correspondence drop.

I have been thinking about what I will do after I restore my parents’ memories - more so now that it looks like it may be a reality soon. I will return to England to sit my NEWTs for sure. I imagine I’ll stay. I mean, all of my friends are there.

If you had asked me even a year ago, what I want to do for a career, I’d have told you I want to either pursue something in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, or Magical Law Enforcement. Now… now I’m not so certain. Edmund suggested, since I’ve done so much self-guided study, and now am gaining experience as a research assistant, that I consider becoming a Healer or medical researcher.

It’s a good thing, I think, that I have more time to think things over before making a decision.

Yours truly,

Hermione

P.S. You were right. Venice is beautiful, and I’d love to go back for a proper visit someday.


	2. Two Encounters

Neville stepped out of the Floo into the Atrium at the Ministry for Magic. He had all the forms filled out, and had made sure that Master Arnscraft had signed the right places, too. Now he just had to turn it in at the Department of Apprenticeship Studies. Weaving his way through the lunchtime crowds, he spotted a familiar head of curly brown hair hurtling at him.

“Neville!”

The next thing he knew, he was being squished in a bear hug.

“Hello, Hermione,” he replied, returning the hug before stepping back to look at his friend. “What are you doing here?”

“Ooh, I just finished my Charms practical,” she told him, her eyes shining with excitement. “I’m all done my NEWTs, but now I have to wait for the results.” The post-exam elation rapidly dwindled, and Neville could almost see her brain throbbing. If it could escape, he was sure that Hermione’s brain would be as dangerous as the brain in that one room in the Department of Mysteries that was devoted to the study of the mind - well, at least up until their fifth year. Merlin only knew if it still was.

“Take some time to enjoy the feeling of being done before you start worrying about the results,” Neville suggested. “It will do you some good.”

“Oh, but I was just going to double check my Charms notes against the exam questi-”

“Hermione! The exam was a practical one. You know you cast the spells correctly already!”

“Bu-”

“No. I’ll not hear any more of this nonsense,” he said with a knowing grin. “You need to go have some fun instead. In Muggle London, so you’re not tempted to look at your notes.”

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but at Neville’s raised eyebrow, her mouth snapped shut.  She frowned.

“Now, don’t give me that look. If you don’t relax now, then you’ll be nothing but a bundle of nerves until you receive your results.” He grasped her hands in his. “Go have fun this afternoon. Oh, and before I forget, there’s a group of us that meets on Friday nights for dinner. If you’re available, you should join us at seven. We switch off between the Hog’s Head, the Leaky, and the Three Broomsticks. This week it’s at the Leaky since Hannah will be working.”

Hermione sighed. “You seem to know me better than I thought, Neville. Fine, I will go to Muggle London, maybe I’ll go visit the National Art Library or the Victoria and Albert Museum, I haven’t been there in years.”

“That’s not really what I had in mind.”

“Well, that’s what you’re getting from me. You know how I am, but libraries and museums are places where I’m able to relax.” She paused for a moment, before smiling. “As long as nothing comes up, then I will join you for dinner. How is Hannah anyway?”

Neville blushed. “She’s doing very well, thank you.”

“I’m glad to hear that, I’ve always thought she was perfect for you.”

“Thanks, Hermione. Now, off you go.”

“Goodbye, Neville.  Thank you again for all of your help with my parents. I’m so glad to have them back, even if they were a bit upset with me in the beginning.”

“You’re welcome, and just give them time, they’ve been through a lot.”  _We all have_ , he thought.

“I will.”  Hermione hugged her friend once more.  “You know, if I leave now, I might have time to visit both.  Have a pleasant afternoon.”

“You have fun and stay away from your notes.  I will see you tonight.”

After Hermione left, Neville turned and made his way to the lifts. He was happy to see his friend again after her time abroad. He could tell that she was happy to be done with her NEWTs, even if she was already starting to fret over her results. She had her parents back and her exams were finished.

 _Almost anyone else would be happy as a Crup puppy with a new chew toy, if things were going so well for them_ , he mused as he pressed the call button and stepped back a bit. As he waited, he wondered if an afternoon in Muggle London would be enough to help her relax and take her mind off things.

When the lift in front of him opened, he grinned at the young wizard standing just behind the door. “Draco, just the wizard I was looking for.”

Draco stepped off the lift, eyeing Neville in front of him.  Once Draco learned how Hermione had heard of his father’s cousin, he had approached the Longbottom heir to acquaint himself with the circumstances that had led to the curious referral, before he sent his reply to the globetrotting witch.  That brief conversation had set the two former enemies on a path to overcoming their differences and, eventually, becoming friends.

“Just why am I the wizard you are looking for?”

Neville stepped to the side, so others could access the lift, and motioned for Draco to come closer. Lowering his voice so as not to be overheard by curious ears.  “Hermione recently returned from Australia. She actually just finished the last of her NEWTs.”

The brunet wizard’s grin grew, watching the emotions play over the face of his normally reserved friend.  He knew about their continued correspondence while Hermione had been gone, so he wasn’t surprised to see intrigue gracing his features.

Seconds later, Draco raised an expectant eyebrow.

“I just might have told her to go relax for the afternoon and I may know where she’s gone . . .” Neville trailed off, raising an eyebrow of his own.

“Is there a particular reason you’re telling me this?”

“I figured you would be interested in helping her, since she was starting to stress over her results already.”

Draco crossed his arms. “What makes you think I’m interested?”

Neville laughed. “Draco, do you really want to go there? I know you almost as well as I know Hermione. Now, you can find her at the Victoria and Albert Museum or the National Art Library, both of which are in the same building. Knowing her, she’s also probably forgotten all about lunch in all the excitement.”

The blond snorted. “You’ve sent a bibliophile off to a library? What are we going to do with you, Longbottom?”

“Quit complaining, Malfoy, and go find your witch. I will see you tonight at the Leaky.” Neville turned to press the call button for the lift once more. The car opened right away, and he stepped in. As the doors closed, he told Draco, “And don’t forget lunch.”

\------------

Hermione smiled as she stepped off the stairs and into the 3rd floor lobby of the National Art Library. While at one point, she’d had a Reader's Card, it had expired before she’d gone on the Horcrux hunt with Harry and Ron, so upon entering the building, she strode over to the information desk.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice hushed. "My card expired couple years ago. Is it possible to simply renew, or shall I apply?"

The clerk looked up from her typing.  "Policy states you'll have to apply for a new card. We have forms here, or you may use the computer terminal to your right." The clerk gestured to a computer station nearby.

"I'd like a form, please."

The clerk handed Hermione a clipboard with the form and a pen attached. "There are chairs around the desk and to your left. Let me know if you need any further assistance. When you return the form, please be sure to have identification available."

"Thank you."

Hermione made her way around the large information kiosk to a grouping of the most utilitarian and uncomfortable looking grey chairs she had ever seen. Assessing them in a glance, and finding them all equally unappealing, she perched on the edge of the nearest one. The chairs in the actual reading rooms were far more comfortable, but she wouldn't be stuck in the vestibule for long.

With precision due to frequent practice, she filled in the blanks in her tiny careful handwriting. Name, address, date of birth, everything they asked. When she finished, she read the list of accepted forms of identification. Opening her purse, an olive and cream canvas bag to which she had applied the same undetectable extension charm as her beaded evening handbag, she reached in and wandlessly summoned her passport.

She checked and double-checked the form. Satisfied, she stood and went back around the corner to the information desk. Where there had been no one only minutes ago, a short queue had now formed. She took a few steps toward the back of the line, but paused as a wave of familiarity washed over her.

"Can you not just tell me if she is here?" The clipped, polished tones of an aristocratic voice tickled her ears and she turned, curious as to why Draco Malfoy would be in Muggle London at all, never mind the National Art Library, and let alone looking for someone.

"My apologies, sir, but to protect the privacy of our patrons, we only give that information to police when shown a warrant," the clerk said. "If you like, you may apply for a Reader's Card, and enter the library yourself. Or, if you both have mobiles, surely you could send her a message."

"She may have one, but I do not." He heaved a put upon sigh. "Very well, I would like an application form please."

The clerk passed him a clipboard identical to the one Hermione had in her hands, and directed him to the vestibule she had just come from. Turning on his heel, he took a few steps before looking up from the form in his hand.

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy,” she said with only slight hesitation. While he’d given her permission to address him by his given name in their letters, she was uncertain as to whether it would also extend to conversing with him.  _And then again, maybe he’s put off by my use of a more formal style of address,_ she considered.  _Oh why did I decide to speak up first?_

He glanced around the lobby, before focusing his gaze on her. “Miss Granger,” he said, lips twitching. “I see I’m not the only one on whom they have inflicted the application form. Would you care to accompany me to the alcove the clerk vaguely directed me toward?”

“Why certainly, sir,” she said. Hermione bit the inside of her lip while struggling to keep a straight face as she turned and walked back in the direction from which she’d come.

Once they were around the corner, and nearing those dreadful chairs, she took a breath and dared to glance over at her companion. Grey eyes, tinted with the palest blue, locked with her own. An indelicate snort was met with a chuckle, and soon they were laughing so hard that Hermione was grateful for the ugly chair that she plunked down on at last to catch her breath.

“Why is it that we can use each other’s first names via owl post, but we revert to surnames in person?”

“I’m not sure myself, Miss Granger,” Draco remarked. He winked as Hermione huffed at him.

“Well, now that the formalities are out of the way,” she trailed off.

His left eyebrow drew up. “Or at least the absurd formality,” he suggested.

“I suppose,” she said, conceding the point. “What brings you to the National Art Library?”

“An interest in beautiful art.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Any work in particular?”

“Not at all,” he said. “Just a general interest.”

“In that case, you may find an art gallery rather than an art library more suitable for browsing,” she suggested. “Although, I had thought that, based on the discussion you were having with the clerk, you might be meeting someone here.”

Draco sat in a chair beside her. “You could say that,” he told her, glancing over the form. “How long have you been back in England?”

“Just a few days. I’ve been sitting my NEWTs and only just finished.”

As Draco continued to scan the form, he asked a question that had been niggling at the back of his mind since Hermione told him she and his father’s cousin had been successful in returning her parents’ memories. “How are your parents?”

Hermione chuckled. “They were undeniably upset at first. I ended up giving them as much time as they needed to come to terms with what I had done and I told them where I was staying so they could come to me when they were ready. It was just shy of two weeks after I returned their memories that my parents contacted me saying they were ready to talk.”

At this point, Draco had given up on looking over the form. “What did they have to say?”

“They asked why I removed their memories. I explained my worry for their safety due to my involvement with Harry, which seemed to make them feel better about my decision, even if they still didn’t agree with the way I went about it. They would have preferred that I discuss it with them first, but I couldn’t risk the chance of them trying to stop me somehow.” She paused, her eyes losing focus in memory. After a moment, she shook her head to clear the thought from her mind. “It took time and quite a few tears on both sides, but we were able to clear the air between us.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Draco smiled. “Did they return with you?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, when I returned their memories of me, they ended up retaining their memories of their time in Australia and they decided that they couldn’t just up and leave their life there. I did tell them that their home here was still theirs, so they could return at any time.”

“That sounds fair and reasonable,” Draco said as he grasped the pen attached to the clipboard by a string.

Hermione looked over and saw that he was poised, ready to write. “Do you have one of the required pieces of identification with you?”

 “Hmm, what?” Draco looked up at her. “Identification?”

“Yes, like a passport or driver’s license with your picture and address on it.” She paused to reference the list on her own form, “or a utility or council tax bill?”

Draco peered at his form closely. “Where does it say you need that?”

“At the bottom, in the fine print,” she said, pointing at the fine print.

He looked down to where she was pointing and read over the words in tiny typeset. After looking over the identification requirements, Draco realised that he did not have what was needed. “Well, that’s disappointing.”

As he put down the pen, there was a loud gurgle from Hermione’s stomach.

At the sound, Draco laughed, the deep tones flowing through her ears.

She blushed profusely, turning her head away. “Merlin that’s embarrassing.”

Draco smirked. “It happens to the best of us.” He suddenly remembered Neville’s suggestion from only a half hour before. “Well, since I am unable to apply for a Reader’s Card at the moment, what do you say to a spot of lunch?”

“True, but it is still embarrassing.” She finally looked up. “To answer your question, my stomach thinks that lunch sounds wonderful.”

Draco felt his own stomach start to ache at the thought of food. “Well, I think my own stomach agrees with yours, Hermione. Where would you like to go?”

“There is a café on the first floor of the museum, they have quite a diverse menu. I’m sure we both can find something there that we will like. We could have something there and tour the museum after? I can always go to the library at a later date.”

“That works for me.” Draco stood before holding out his hand to help Hermione to stand.

“Thank you, Draco,” she replied, making her way from the alcove and back to the clerk. “Let me turn in my form and pick up my temporary card and then we can go down to the café.”

“Forms and identification please,” the clerk said as they stepped up to the desk.

Hermione handed over her form and passport, while Draco removed the form before handing over the clipboard. “I seem to have forgotten my identification, I will return my form at a later date.”

The clerk nodded, beginning to process Hermione’s application. “Miss Granger, everything seems to be in order here. I will give you your temporary card and you will receive your permanent card within two weeks.”

“Thank you,” Hermione replied, taking her passport and temporary card from the clerk. “Have a good afternoon.”

“Thank you, I hope you do as well.” The clerk turned back to other paperwork in front of her, clearly dismissing the couple before her.

Hermione turned around to face Draco. “Shall we make our way to the café?”

“Yes, please lead the way.” Draco gestured for Hermione to precede him towards the staircase that led to the first floor of the Victoria and Albert Museum. Before following her, he took a moment to appreciate the lovely view her denim clad backside provided.

\------------

After lunch in the museum café and spending hours making their way through the numerous rooms of the large building, Draco and Hermione left the Victoria and Albert Museum. She was surprised to see how dark it was outside.

“What time is it?” Hermione glanced around before looking at her watch. “Oh no, it’s nearly half six.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not so much of a problem, but I told Neville that I would try to meet up to have dinner with him and some of our friends,” Hermione explained.

“At the Leaky?”

Hermione stopped walking. “How did you know?”

He smirked. “I’m Draco Malfoy.”

She rolled her eyes. “You are such an arse.”

“I know, but I wouldn’t be nearly as much fun if I weren’t.” He grinned at her. “I’m actually pretty good friends with Neville and he reminded me that we were meeting tonight at seven.”

“Oh right. I noticed you mentioned talking with Neville in some of your letters. Well, if you want, we can head to the Leaky together.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Hermione grinned and grabbed one of his hands.  “Follow me.”

Draco warily followed Hermione back toward the National Art Museum. “Where are we going?”

The brunette witch looked back over her shoulder, her eyes were bright with mischief. “You’ll see.”

Raising an eyebrow, he continued to follow her, taking in his surroundings. They quickly crossed Cromwell Road and continued on Exhibition Road for a moment before Hermione turned them right onto Thurloe Place.

“What the hell is Hoop & Toy?”

Hermione laughed. “My parents went there a couple years ago and said it’s an overpriced pub joint.” She shrugged. “In other words, it’s not worth our time.”

“I understand that, but why the name?”

“No clue,” she paused and grinned at him. “Now, are you ready?”

“Ready for what? What in Merlin’s name have you gotten me in to?”

Hermione tugged on his hand. “Just something new and exciting.”

Draco looked up at the building they were starting to enter. “South Kensington Station? Oh no, you’re not getting me on that Muggle Hose thing. Let’s Apparate.”

Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes, before leaning in to whisper in his ear, “I know you Apparated here earlier, which you shouldn’t have done, but that doesn’t mean that’s how we should leave.  Also, would you like to tell me where we would both be able to Apparate discretely from?”

Draco frowned, remembering that when he had arrived, he had ended up landing in an empty stall in the men’s loo of the National Art Library.

“That’s what I thought,” Hermione snickered, “and don’t give me that look. You’ll be fine. You’ve ridden the Hogwarts Express many times, this is no different. It just stops more often. You will only be underground for ten, maybe fifteen, minutes.” She stepped up to a ticket machine, purchasing a single ticket for Draco and then she topped up her Oyster card. “Now, quit your complaining and let’s go.”

Draco followed Hermione’s example as she went through the turnstile, before they made their way to the platform.

“I would still prefer to Apparate,” Draco muttered as they stood waiting for their train.

“Draco,” Hermione warned.

“Well, I would,” he replied.

Hermione squeezed his hand. “I know, but that’s not an option.” She smiled up at him. “Just a few minutes on the tube and then we’ll be done. We can only take the blue Piccadilly train, which should be coming just about now.”

Draco looked up to see a train making its way into the station.  Once it stopped, the doors opened, and a small handful of people stepped onto the platform, Hermione pulled him onto the train. She reached for an overhead handle, gesturing for Draco to do the same.

“Perfect, we’ll have about ten minutes to get to the Leaky once we get off at the Charing Cross exit,” Hermione explained, after the train started moving.

“So we just stay on this train until we get to our stop?”

“Well, no, we have to change trains at Piccadilly Circus, which is four stops from here and then Charing Cross is the next stop on the brown Bakerloo train that we’ll take from Piccadilly.”

Draco stared at her as she rattled off their course of action from South Kensington to the Leaky Cauldron. “Whatever you say. We could already be there if we Apparated,” he grumbled.

Hermione laughed. “Pouting is not attractive on you, so stop.”

“Are you sure about that?” Draco smirked stepping closer to her.

She raised a slim, brunette eyebrow. “Don’t even go there.”

Draco’s eyes lit up at her comment. Hermione groaned, turning her back to him. “I can’t believe I said that.”

She felt Draco step right behind her, placing his free hand on her shoulder. His breath ruffled her hair, as he whispered, “If it makes you feel any better, I think your pout is rather alluring.” She could hear the grin in his words.

Hermione closed her eyes, breathing in his scent. She opened her mouth to respond, but when she heard the announcement for their stop, she changed what she planned to say. “We need to get off at this station, but we’ll wait on the platform before we get on the Bakerloo for the last stop.”

He silently squeezed her shoulder in response. They silently exited the train and Hermione made sure they were clear of other travellers before she stopped to wait for their connecting train.

“Hermione,” Draco sighed, turning her to face him. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”

She shook her head. “It’s not so much that it makes me uncomfortable, I’m just not used to such...comments.” At his questioning look, she elaborated, “In my childhood, prior to Hogwarts, I was the oddball, the girl who did strange things. At Hogwarts, I was friends with Harry and Ron, and too busy saving their arses for anyone to realise I was a girl. And then there was a war, and everyone was just trying to survive.” She saw the Bakerloo train approaching. “Our next train is here.”

Draco placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the open door.

As the doors slid closed, she continued, “You know from my letters how nomadic I’ve been for the past two years. When would I have had a chance to meet a bloke, let alone have the opportunity to talk to him?”

Draco made sure to stand nice and close to her as they each grabbed one of those handy stabilizing handles. “You’ve always kept busy.”

“I guess you could say that,” she said.

“Although, that was not at the core of my puzzlement,” he continued, whispering into her ear. “You are, if I may be so bold as to say so, an-”

“Oh, our stop is just ahead,” Hermione interrupted him, eyes fixed on some point ahead of them. He gritted his teeth, forcing back the sneer that threatened to overtake his visage as the train slowed to a halt.

 _Had we Apparated, I wouldn’t have had a chance to say anything so embarrassing,_ he thought as the doors opened. Seizing the moment, she stepped away and out onto the platform while he followed. Hermione looked around to get her bearings before heading toward a stairway and exit.

“So, if we walk north past Nelson’s Column, Trafalgar Square, the National Gallery and the Portrait Gallery, then we should find ourselves at the Leaky in a matter of minutes,” she told him as she set a brisk pace. “It’s just a few blocks away.”

Draco’s stride lengthened as he effortlessly matched her speed.

“We still have loads of time, you know,” he said, glancing at his watch. “It’s not a race. In fact, we’ll still be early.”

Draco reached out to capture Hermione’s hand in his own to slow her down, when she tripped and stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk. He was able to catch her, but not before she hit her knee on the pavement.

“Bollocks,” Hermione hissed. “That stings.”

Draco gasped. “Hermione Granger using such language! Why I never.”

“I wouldn’t have bloody well needed to, had there been a nice layer of snow to cushion my fall,” she groused. “Where on earth is the snow, anyway? London usually has at least a dusting of white by now.”

“London had a dusting of snowfall on Wednesday the 15th, but it was gone by that night. However, the manor in Wiltshire has already seen a couple snowfalls this season--if you’re looking for snow, we could go there.” He refrained from reminding her that any snowfall in London would already have turned to slush, or been pockmarked by muddy splashes from traffic.

Hermione pondered his suggestion as they started walking, she with a slight limp, towards the Leaky Cauldron again. She looked at Draco with a grin. “Any plans for New Year’s?”

“Are you asking me out?”

Hermione smirked. “And what if I am? A nice walk through the snow on New Year’s Eve would be a great way to quietly spend the evening and ring in the new millennium.”

“Then I may have to take you up on it.” He smirked, but as she winced again, his smirk vanished and he raised an eyebrow. “If it’ll help you feel better, and improve your mood, I’ll kiss that knee better for you.”

Hermione laughed, seeing the sign for The Leaky Cauldron appear down the street after they rounded the corner. “How very charming of you, and I’m sure you would, but I’ll take my chances.”

“Well, at the very least, will you permit me to cast a small healing charm on your knee, after we arrive?”

“I might be persuaded,” she replied glancing coyly at him over her shoulder, as she opened the door to The Leaky Cauldron. “As long as you buy me a drink.”

Draco’s jaw dropped as she waltzed through the door, so shocked at her cheeky reply that the door slammed into his back.


End file.
